would he if he didn’t know anything about our family?”
“But what if he does know? It makes me wonder what came first, the chicken or the egg?”
“What do you mean?”
“He might have met Dea before he ever called me.”
Alessandra was trying to understand what her father was getting at. “Why is this troubling you so much?”
“I’m your loving papà. My daughters were born princesses of the Houses of Taranto and Caracciolo. Because of our family history, you know I’ve always wanted to protect you from unscrupulous men.”
His explanation surprised her. “That sounds like medieval thinking. Papà, you don’t honestly think the CEO of Montanari Engineering fits in that category?” That gorgeous man? The one she’d envied Dea for meeting first? Alessandra didn’t want to believe it. Something about him had impressed her deeply.
“Though we don’t use the titles anymore, there are some men who try to calculate the monetary worth of our family. There’s nothing they would like more than to acquire your bank accounts and assets more than your love.”
Alessandra frowned. “The man comes from his own family dynasty and doesn’t need more.”
“One would assume as much, but for some men one dynasty isn’t enough.” His gaze swerved to hers. “I don’t want to think it. But if he has targeted Dea to marry her and eventually gain possession of our property, I don’t like the thought of it.”
She didn’t like it, either. Not at all. “Personally I don’t believe it.” Alessandra didn’t want to believe it. Not about that man. Whatever history her sister and Signor Montanari might have together, she didn’t want to think about it. To be with a man like him...
Alessandra got to her feet. “Don’t let it bother you, Papà. Have you had dinner yet?”
“No.”
“I’ll bring you something.”
“Grazie, but I’m not hungry.”
“I’m afraid I am. I haven’t eaten since I got back. Excuse me while I grab a sandwich. If you want me, I’ll be in the library.”
Alessandra left the office and headed for the kitchen to find something to eat. Afterward she walked to the castle library on the main floor, the repository of their family history where she could be alone. Years earlier she’d turned one corner of it into her own office, complete with file cabinets and a state-of-the-art computer and printer, plus a large-screen television for viewing the many videos she’d compiled. This had been her inner sanctum for years.
She sat down at the desk and got back to work on the book she was writing about Queen Joanna. Just as she’d settled down to get busy, the phone rang. It was her father.
“Papà?”
“I just wanted to let you know I’ve got business in Metaponto. The pilot is flying me in a few minutes.”
“Do you want company? I’ll go with you.”
“Not tonight, piccola.” Her father’s endearment for her. When Alessandra was born, she was the younger twin by three minutes and the name little one stuck. “I’m sure you’re tired after your scuba-diving trip, so you get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning. I could be gone a couple of hours and will probably get back late tonight.”
“All right.”
While she got back to work she heard her father’s helicopter fly away. She kept busy for another hour, then went upstairs to get ready for bed. But when she slid under the covers, she didn’t fall asleep right away. Memories of the past with her sister filtered through her mind.
Though their personalities were entirely different, she and Dea had been as close as any two sisters until college, when Francesco had come into Alessandra’s life. She’d fallen in love and they talked about getting married. But before they got engaged he met Dea, who was more confident than Alessandra and had already started her modeling career.
Her sister had a beauty and lovability that had drawn guys to her from her teens. By contrast, Alessandra felt rather dull and unexciting. Certainly she wasn’t as attractive. But she’d always accepted those truths and never let them affect their friendship. Not until Francesco had laid eyes on Dea. From that moment everything changed. Alessandra felt herself lose him and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
He followed her sister to Rome and she never saw him again. Francesco sent Alessandra a letter explaining he couldn’t help falling in love with Dea and hoped she wouldn’t hate him too badly. As for Dea, Alessandra didn’t see her for two months. When her sister came home, she told Alessandra she was sorry for what had happened. She explained that Francesco had done all the running, and she’d soon found out he was a loser. Alessandra was lucky to be out of the relationship.
The trauma of being betrayed by Francesco and her sister had completely floored her. It had taken a long time to work past the pain. Though they’d shared sisterly love in the past, from that time on they’d had a troubled relationship and two truths emerged. Alessandra didn’t know if she could trust a man again and Dea would always be the beautiful one who usually got the best of Alessandra. People seemed to love her the most.
Alessandra had to live with the knowledge that she was known as the clever one, a scholar with a sense of adventure. She’d thought that by the age of twenty-eight she would have finally gotten past her jealousy of Dea’s ability to attract men. But it wasn’t true. Otherwise meeting Signor Montanari, who’d met Dea first, wouldn’t have disturbed Alessandra so much.
If her father was right, what a sad irony that this man might be using Dea to get what he really wanted, making both sisters appear as poor judges of character. First the chef Alessandra had fallen for who couldn’t remain faithful once he’d laid eyes on Dea. Now Signor Montanari, who looked like the embodiment of a woman’s dreams. But what if her father learned this man had a secret agenda? The troubling thought kept her tossing and turning all night.
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